


Brooding

by sterling_schreibt



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Gen, Letter, Romance, SOLDIER - Freeform, roman - Freeform, warfare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:18:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterling_schreibt/pseuds/sterling_schreibt
Summary: Emperor Rictus Maximus feverishly pens a note to his beloved.





	Brooding

The maps and scrolls sprawled over the table formed a cluster of strategies cut off by one another, little models of his armies, his ships and horses, some of which had fallen over and were now half-buried under parchments. Rictus stared blankly at the miniature battlefield, mumbling to himself before slumping backwards into his chair. Draped with furs, it was still a pathetic excuse for a throne, but for a camp he would make due with what his men could carry. The tent became blurry in front of his eyes and he mopped his face with shaky hands.

They were doing well. They were advancing, bit by bit, mile by mile, and covering ground despite the rain, despite the icy sludge threatening to swallow them up. Yet Rictus remained feverish, unable to rest, and with his stamina his concentration fled. One of his generals turned when he saw his superior's face, pale and pacing now, and scolded the guards for letting him in when clearly the Emperor was in no position to receive counsel.

Rictus searched for a quill and a piece of paper, stumbling over a little ink vial in the process before settling down once more. Here he was, on the cold and rainy outskirts of his future realm, alone and trembling with a longing he didn't quite grasp himself yet.

He dipped the metal tip into the black liquid and poured words over his new canvas, spilling secrets he would not have told his closest advisors; certainly not anyone in his palace. The letter read:

''Dearest Max,

we are closer than ever to victory. As the Gods' favors shine upon me, my men are clearing the dreaded enemy from our new lands. Shores are a week's march away. My ever-growing empire gravitates in all directions, and my health can not be improved upon.  
However, my spirits dampen worse with every passing minute. It has been three months since I kissed you goodbye, and my mind has clouded with dark thoughts of your absence. My bedside has remained cold, which, I must admit, is an odd feature to worry about during times of war. As I wonder about my son growing in your womb, it is you yourself whose firmness I miss. I shall bring you what treasures I may gather from this desolate place.  
News of our progress will have travelled to Rome by the time this letter reaches you, thus I conclude you shall not worry about my well-being or reputation tarnished. In time, I hope to bring you both with me, as I feel I may well like to have my blood nearby.   
Our child will look upon his heritage as a vast and firmly ruled land, acquiered and defended by his father before his birth.  
My sweet consort, I send you my heart by word, for I fear if I part with my organ, you may be deeply troubled.

His Excellence,  
Emperor Rictus Maximus''


End file.
